Warrior Cat Art Novels & Stories

She was dragging her feet. Pomelia was forced to face War and she continued to look down, twisting her trembling mouth to the side. "When mates are close to one another they secrete a certain scent. You both are secreting something different. You two are mates." "I am capable of taking care of you," War consoled her as his mate silently cried. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't reject her. He needed her... "I am...I'm sure you can W-War...I just want to serve the goddess, I don't want to be with a man," she sniffled as Warren frowned. Well, he definitely wanted to be with a woman, specifically her.

Me, Liam and Oliver We went to the same kinder garden, and same school and college, we have been together for a long time and our bond is not something others can break just like that. Alpha Liam and his pack are good with fighting, Alpha Oliver and his werecat pack are good with strategies. I look after the ruling and handling the council. And when we are at war both of their packs play a major role, Werecats plan the war strategy and my pack warriors and black panthers fight the war. All our three packs have a perfect harmony existing together as each other’s supporting system and backbones.

Vee dropped one of her swords. Killian couldn’t wait any longer. He let go of the rope and launched himself towards the ground. As he fell, he shifted, the power rippled up his spine. He landed hard on all four and took off at a sprint just as Vee fell to her knees. The Werecat landed a hard blow to Vee’s head and she collapsed. The cat had its jaws just inches from Vee’s throat when Killian tackled the beast and they went rolling sideways. They were maw to maw as the warriors started raining down above them. The Shifters started to fall back as the warriors began cutting them down in huge swatches.

His eyes gleamed as he spoke, as if the words carried a private resonance. Last, he drew attention to a pair of smaller pieces — warriors etched in profile, each flanked by stylized tigers, their stances defiant, almost supernatural. “These images,” Mahisar said, lowering his voice, “speak of men who drew their strength from the tiger itself. Whether metaphor or myth, they suggest a belief that power — true power — was not merely inherited or learned, but taken from the wild, absorbed into the very soul.” A hush fell over the group. The artifacts were ancient, fragile, but in Mahisar’s telling, they seemed to pulse with something alive, as if the past had teeth and claws waiting just beneath

He had a direct line to our Moon Goddess and would know what her plans were for me. “I love Gavin and want to remain with him. Sure, the thought of becoming a warrior Goddess sounded grand and something that I definitely would have agreed to earlier, but now I had my mate and wished to remain with him and our two pups. “Gavin, don't let me go,” I said softly and he nodded. “I won't,” he growled and squeezed my hand. As we walked through the trees my mind was filled with information about fighting and unique forms and styles of the art.

His wolf whines loudly to the warrior's teeth plunged into his body, he needs to get away before his bones are crushed for it shall happen it can render him helpless. It is a game for catch for them both, eyes prying looking for visible weakness to take advantage of. Claws scrape the open underbelly of the warrior with a surprising swiftness drawing blood Deimos extracts it only to plunge it deeply once more, the male howls with misery falling to the grass floor for his underbelly is cut open the insides in sight.

She could see the sweat pooling in his upper lip as he loosened one sleeve and let it fall to reveal a quarter of his chest where there was an angry black mass. Yan Sha balked. "Ning Zhuo, doing something like this will not get me to marry you." The inky lion on his chest was one caught with a rabbit in it's mouth as it shredded it to pieces. It was fresh and hastily done in a method that looked almost common. What gangster could turn down a prince with gold to do business. It was so disturbing that he had even thought that doing something so permanent would prove that his intention was true.

But the smile did disappear almost immediately because my mind went right back to the wolf. Antonio had looked at my drawing like it had offended and fascinated him at the same time. And his own drawing… That damn cat. It had been beautiful. I hated that it was beautiful. The little creature he had drawn had not been weak at all. It had sharp eyes, arched shoulders, tiny claws bared like it was ready to attack anything that came too close. But still. A cat. A kitten. Mostly because I could not tell if I hated it because it was wrong or because part of it felt too close to being right.

In the end, I think they turned out great. Not that I knew what the others were for but there was also a frog on a log, a humming bird and a fat Cardinal. The very last one I was drawing was for Arlo. He got those picture for us, or more for me. It was of a wolf. It’s head was downward with his teeth showing. The hair was standing straight up with a human skull under it’s paw. There wasn’t any flesh on it, just the bones. Originally, I was going to make it a dead rabbit or something but this seemed appropriate. Keeping this one black and white, kept some of the mystery alive. “Charlotte??” Waylon yelled as he was coming in.

I said, looking at the next guy. "Come on," I said, calling him. He was holding one sword, which made me drop one of my sword, to fight with him. "Please note that your enemy will not be as lenient as me to reduce my weapon, the more for them, the advantage it is," I explained. "You should have let us use our wolf form," he complained. "And why would I?" I asked. "Because that's how we were trained, if I am using my wolf mood, I am more confident to win you," he replied.